


Your Attention Please

by SticksStories



Category: Boyfriend to Death, btd - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Head Injury, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi, Nudity, Other, Sexual Agression, knife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-02 10:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16303229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SticksStories/pseuds/SticksStories
Summary: Ren is missing the attention he had before Strade's new guest moved in.Thanks for reading!





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major editing has been done. The first and second chapter have been merged, also. Thanks for reading!

I quietly crawled out from under his arm and slipped out of his bed. The carpeted floor felt so soft against my feet while the cold air slapped against my naked body. I picked up my underwear and squeezed them tightly in my hand. I kept my body hunched over as I made awkward movements to avoid the creeks in the floor. I turned the door handle, feeling sick as I pulled the door open and gently made my way through. As I turned to close the door I could see Strade sleeping. His face was soft and warm, like when I first met him a few days ago. I began to get a headache as the memory of his kindness tied knots in my head.

I closed the door and put on the little clothing I had before going out into the common room to hunt for the rest of my outfit. The common room was in worse condition than I remember leaving it. Couch cushions were thrown in every direction, broken glass from a smashed plate littered the hard floor, and the chain, that was bolted to the far wall, snaked across the edges of the throw carpet. The cushions were easily put back into place and chain coiled neatly then placed against the wall. But the glass would be another issue. I didn’t know where the broom or dustpan was yet and looking around now might wake Strade up. I better just clean it with my hand and get to bed. I flicked on the room light and got on my knees to clean up the glass.

I followed the broken glass as it trailed back into the kitchen. The pressure of my weight irritated the number of cuts and bruises the covered my legs. I was almost done picking up what was left in the darkened kitchen when the floor creaked in front of me. I looked up to see a thin pale body in front of me. A sharp pain shot through my hand as my body stiffened into place. It was Ren, standing in front of the fridge.

The light in the common room stretched onto Ren’s legs. They were covered in scars, some looking years old. Ren was held up in his room most of the time. It seemed like he only came out when Strade was here. He hadn’t said much to me since I got here. Hell, I only know his name because Strade introduced us. 

I lifted my hand and slowly opened it revealing the bloody mess it had become. After a short silence, Ren squeezed past me, taking special care that we didn’t touch, out back out into the house. Once the sound of him moving up the stairs ceased it was like all sense came back to me. I rushed over to the trash can throwing the shards inside. All except one piece that hung from the palm of my open hand. Seeing the blood drip form shard that wiggled in my palm made the room sway and bob.

“I have to do it.” I said to myself, “I have to do it right now.”

With all the speed I could muster I grabbed the plate shard and ripped it from my hand. Blood began to gush from the open wound. I used my thumb to plug the hole, holding my hands close to me. Falling to my knees I rocked back and forth to comfort myself. Breathing through the pain and panic, I tried to keep my thoughts from running away from me. I did my best to keep my mind trained on the things I had with me, but when I closed my eyes to dream of them my mind could give me nothing.  
I woke up to the door to the outside being slammed. I back popped in multiple places and I straightened myself. I got up from the floor to see a new mess waiting. The table had the half-eaten remains of a recent meal, the counters were littered with half put away food, and the stove looked cooked on. The sun hung low in the sky and filled the room with a red hew.

I felt miserable and I rushed around the kitchen trying to get my new list of chores done. Each movement stung as my skin pulled and cracked my freshly healed injuries. With the job done I hurried upstairs and rushed into the bathroom. I locked the door behind me and turned to a lavish display. This bathroom had a separate bath and shower, two sinks, and even a smaller room for the toilet. I got over to the shower and threw the water on. There was no soap in the shower and despite my efforts, I couldn’t find it. So, I took a washcloth and began to scrub the flecks of blood off myself. I could only imagine what I had looked like sleeping on the floor, what Ren and Strade saw, but I kept myself for thinking about it too hard.

I was clean now and my wounds were tended the best I could manage, considering I couldn’t find any first aid supplies either. I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped out into the hallway and scampered down the hallway to my room. Now was the special time of day that Strade would go out for the evening and I didn’t want to waste it. As fast as I could manage I got dry, dressed in the clothes I was given when I settled here, then brushed my hair as I stared dreamily at my bed. My skin felt like it hung on my bones and screamed for relief.

Slam!

That sounded like the front door. I clutched the hairbrush and went to the bedroom door, I eased it open, then peeked through the crack. Ren had come out of his room and was standing in the hallway. I could hear Strade’s mumbling downstairs and then the thumping of someone coming up. Ren moved himself to the center of the hallway. His door was wide open and he stood in blocking the rest of the way. Strade, his demeanor as cheerful as ever, struck up a conversation with Ren.

Their talk went on for a while, but I couldn’t hear them past my panic. I didn’t want Strade to come here, but I was also afraid of what might happen to Ren. Should I go out there? But soon it didn’t matter, because Strade was pushing past Ren and walking toward me! I backed away from the door. All that was in here was a bearly used bedroom set. There was nowhere to hide, nothing I could do as he invited himself into my room.

“How are you mein kumpel” He said. “I found you asleep zee the kitchen zis morning”

I shifted in place. I didn’t know what to say. I don’t think he cared what I had to say either way. I hated his small talk. It presented this false opportunity to make the situation better. But every answer is a wrong answer.

“I zuboze you tired youzelf out vith zome late night cleaning.”

He cupped my head with his hand as he moved even closer. I kept my eyes to the ground as his fingers slowly stroked through my hair. He pulled so that my head rested on his chest, which left us in a strange position as I did my best to keep the rest of my body from touching him. He sighed at me. Not a sigh of anger or annoyance, but it almost seemed like a sigh of content. Before I knew it he looped his hand around me and pulled me flush against his body. I let out a startled yelp, at which he chuckled at. I could feel the buttons from his shirt press into me and he leaned his weight down. I tried to hold him up for a time, but the more I pushed to keep him upright the more he bared his weight down on me until we both went tumbling to the ground. His full weight landed on top of me making me cough. He lifted himself up so that his face had some distance from mine as his hips kept me in place.

“You know I zaw you on zee nevs today” He said, a silly smile crossing his face “Beople are looking for you.”

He began to grind his hips on me. I reached up and grabbed his shoulder, I began to push, but then stopped myself. His hand began to creep up my chest and play with buttons I wore on his borrowed shirt. I pointed my face away from him as tears threatened the corners of my vision. He brought his face close and opened his mouth to speak. His stubble rubbed against my neck and I couldn’t take it any longer. I pushed up with all my might, getting him far enough away to put my hand on his face and push more. I wriggled and thrashed to get out from under him. I saw him lift his fist with a casual look.

He had reeled back and punched me in the head. I was stunned as everything turned into a blurry mess as couldn’t stop my tears anymore. My blood smeared his chin and blood began to pour from my hand anew. I looked at his face, as blurry as the world was looking through my tearful eyes I could tell he was happy to start again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren cooks dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edits done

Fighting through my misery I pulled a blanket to the floor and used it to cover my naked body. Ren had followed Strade downstairs, the mumbling of their conversation drifting back up into the hallway. I buried my head into the blanket riding out the waves of phantom touches that reenacted violence on me. But in the free moments, my mind would go to when Strade pushed past Ren to get to me. My anger at the situation became too much. For every ghostly touch, I would scratch and rip at my skin until pain dominated the area. Eventually, my nakedness began to disgust me and I put on the clothing that was stripped off of me not too long ago. My skin burned as the clothing rubbed against the newly made sores and old irritated wounds. Then all the energy left my body and I was left with nothing inside.

I need to get clean. I shambled out into the hallway. My arm and legs felt a thought I was lugging rocks. I leaned my body on the wall and began to drag myself down the hallway. As I moved my clothing got caught on a door handle turning it and popping it open. I rolled myself so I was facing the open door. It was Ren’s room. The door had swung opened quite a bit revealing the contents of his room. Clanking came from the kitchen as Ren began to cook dinner.

“Maybe, if I’m quick,” I said softly

I pushed myself off the wall and moved to the room. As the door pushed open a strong whiff of dirty clothes rushed into my face. Ren’s room was a strange mix of glamor and garbage. The walls were covered in anime posters thumbtacked to the wall. Junk, dirty clothing, and dusty boxes cluttered almost every available surface, half-eaten food, and a pile of blankets that someone had been sitting on was stacked in the corner. But expensive, pricey, things littered the room too. The newest smartphones, laptops, sunglasses, desktops computer and many other high ticket items could also be found amidst the clutter. 

“How does he have all this shit?” I said,

Ren’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs and then subsequent thumping as he began to make it way towards me. I backed out of the room pulling the door until it touched the doorframe. It would be too loud if I closed it. I rushed a quietly as I could into my room, closed the door, and waited. I could hear shuffling and stomping that got closer and then further away. Then silence. I held my breath afraid that any extra sound would cause me to miss something. Still silence.

I walked out again trying to act a normal as I could as I walked back towards to the bathroom. Ren had left his door wide open. The room itself looked unchanged except for a shoebox that now sat on the desk. The lid of the box sat ajar, begging for me to take a peak. I leaned back into the room taking care that my feet didn’t cross the threshold. But it wasn’t enough, I couldn’t see in the box. If I wanted to know I would have to go back into Ren’s room. 

A smile forced its way onto my face. It felt like a child going on an adventure. I went to the box and slid open the lid. The smile dropped from my face. The shoebox was filled with bandages, disinfectant, you name it. All here. In this box. In Ren’s room. Where I couldn’t use it. I grabbed a box of bandages and held it in my hand like it was a precious jewel. A rustling at the door finally pulled my attention away from my find. I turned around to see Ren in the doorway. He was holding a box of band-aids.

“Did you put this here?” I said, keeping a quiet rage of my own.

Ren’s face was a mix of anger and exhaustion. We stood in silence not taking our eyes off each other. Ren’s mouth tightened like he was about to yell, but before he could Strade voice came booming from the common room.

“Ren get pack dovn here,” he said, “und bring unsere fernsehstar vith you!”

Ren walked over to the box, placed the band-aids inside, then took it and placed it back on his bookshelf. He stood in the room making it so if I began to leave he would easily be able to get behind me. I quickly walked out of the room trying to keep as much as my body pointed at him as I could. He slowly followed me out. I still held the box of bandages in my hand as I descended the stairs. Strade sat on the couch looking at the TV, which was tuned to the local news. Seeing him there brought back memories of suffering that happened in this room. All I could feel was replaced with the uncertainty of being in Strade’s presence. 

“Zere you are.” Strade said, never taking his eyes off the tv, “Come zit vith me.”

I sat on the couch next to him keeping a respectable distance. Ren had already gone back into the kitchen and begun cooking again. While Strade was rewinding the news and with a large grin on his face.

“Look at zis” Strade said, as he hit play on the remote

A woman, in a lined pants suit, was on the TV standing in a room with reporters surrounding a small stage with a podium. I couldn’t understand why Strade was so excited to show me this, the only thing that made any sense to me was the large symbol of a police station that hung behind the whole scene. Cameras flashed as an older woman took the podium. Once I saw her face there was nothing I could do to stop the torrent of tears poured down my face. It was my mother, looking haggard and wearing black, begging for my safe return. I dropped the bandages I held and covered my face with my hands, seeing her up there was too much to watch. Strade had slid himself over, snaked his arms around me, then cuddled his head into my neck breathing heavily.

“Don’t hide from me.” Strade said,

He pulled my hands down from my face. At the sight of my mother, I jerked my head away to avoid looking at the screen, but in doing so I had turned away for Strade. He grabbed my shoulder and jerked me around so I was facing him. His face was red and his breathing was heavy. Tears were soaking my shirt as I did my best to stifle my sobbing. Strade pushed me down onto the couch, crawling over of me stopping when we were face to face. All I could make out clearly through my weepiness was Strade’s brown eye gazing down at me. The sound of a plate being set down beside us snapped both Strade and I out of the situation. Ren had placed a salad and a roll with a fork and a steak knife on the adjacent table.

My stomach did flips at the sight of this. Did Ren really hate me that much? Was I the only one that didn’t take pleasure in my suffering? Strade took the knife in his hand, then reached down and jerked down my clothing so that my thighs were exposed. I looked at Ren pleadingly, but once he saw the knife in Stade’s hand he went back to the kitchen as if everything was normal. I yelled out when Strade finally plunged the knife into my leg, quickly ripping it out. Hot blood ran down my leg and soaked into the cushion underneath me. His breathing became rhythmic as he smeared blood around my legs. I looked out to see Ren watching us from the doorway with a large knife in his hand. I closed and let every awful feeling wash over me Strade violated me more and more. Tonight I would be spending in Strade’s bed keeping me safe, but tomorrow he will leave and I will be alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You fight back

Strade’s arms wrapped tightly around me, his torturous impulses stated for the time being. I stared out into the darkness of his room thinking about all the things Ren could have prepared for me. But, as afraid as I was of Ren, I had to go to the bathroom and Strade’s bathroom was not attached to his room. I couldn’t sleep through the discomfort anymore. Yes, Ren might be out there ready to hurt me, but what is Strade going to do to me if I took a piss in here.

“Fuck!” I whispered sharply to myself.

I creeped out into the hallway. Only the light coming from the common room lit my way. Out in the common room the sofa, which Strade had pulled apart, had been put back together, but the cushions had been stripped, displaying the various other fluids that had soaked into the styrofoam underneath. The yellow stains made me feel especially sick. I moved against the wall down the hall and into the bathroom. The sudden rush of lights was blinding, but otherwise, the bathroom was clear. It was a small room with a shower-tub and a toilet and sink crammed into the corner. Considerably drab compared to the rooms upstairs. I wonder why Strade chose to live like this. To move into, what I’m sure was intended to be, the guest room when there was so much nicer upstairs.

I began to wash my hands. My reflection kept staring me down. A tired looking thing, that is worse every time I see it. Covered in cuts, stitches, and bruises. I turned away and stood at the door, to the hallway, with my hand on the lock. The door itself was sturdy and the lock, made of a fine material, that could only be locked from the inside. In fact, most of the doors in this house only locked from the inside, like this one. Anger began to build in me as I stood there looking at my reflection in the metal lock.

This door is awful! This house is awful! Strade was not afraid, not of Ren, or me, or anything. From our separate living quarters to the locks on the bathroom door, every feature of this house was meant to remind me of how powerful he was. He didn’t care if Ren and I talked or if we locked ourselves away. As long as I was in this house I would be at his mercy. No matter where I was

I opened the door and it bounced against the wall. I didn’t care if I was making too much sound. Nothing could make this worse. I stopped in the hallway. Sure, Ren had it out for me, but did I really want to go back into that room with Strade? As I stood in the looking at Strade’s doorway something grabbed my hair and yanked me down. I landed on my knees. The impact of my fall causing a new burst of pain from every injury. I began to crawl out of the darkness into the common room. When I felt a hand grab and pull at my clothing, holding me back. I flipped on to my side the best I could. All I saw was a flash of Ren’s eyes, reflecting light like mirrors in all that darkness. I kicked out and landed a hit somewhere on his chest knocking him back.

I scrambled into the common room and grabbed the first thing that caught my eye that I could use as a weapon. Which was a, surprisingly dense, metal statuette on the far wall. I turned around and got ready to strike. But Ren was nowhere. He was quiet and has managed to sneak up on me before, but I wasn’t looking away, that long. I let my arm relax and I ventured to the center of the room. I looked into each doorway. The inky blackness of the night kept me from seeing any details. I felt alone and insecure. Only the sound of ticking clock kept me company now. 

I began to make my way back to Strade’s room. What else was I to do? I couldn't go back to my room! Ren is still in the house and he still wants to kill me. I set down the statuette, on the coffee table, and began to walk towards Strade’s room again. Then I heard the light tapping of feet behind me. I whipped myself around to see Ren. He was holding a knife as he came after me. I reached out and grabbed ear and hair and yanked as hard as I could. Ren yelled out in surprise and dropped his knife. I pushed him back with all my might, but this boy was a freak of nature, half dog or something. His fingers were tipped with claws which he sunk into the flesh of my air pulling me along with him.

I landed on top of him. Torrents of blood running down my arm and dripping on to him. His fingers dug deeper and deeper until I brought my mouth to his hand and bit down. He screamed again. Ren’s eye teared up as his frustration began to get the better of him. With all his might he struggled and somehow managed to get a leg in the right position to kick. We rolled hitting against the coffee table and knocking the metal statuette to the ground. Ren was now on top. His face was scrunched in anger as tears ran down his face. He pulled back his hand and bared his claws like he was going to attack again, but hesitated.

I wasn’t going to waste this moment. I reached above me and grabbed the statuette and swinging it above me I hit Ren’s head with a soft, thunk. He fell to the side and I jumped, back, on top of him. He was looking up at me with tearful squinted eyes. I lifted the metal contraption above my head, grabbed it with both hands and brought it down again. Blood began pouring out of a large gash on his head. His eyes no longer looked at me. His body was limp under me. My breathing was ragged and impatient. I brought it up above my head once more.

I went to bring the figure down again, but come forward to my command. I look ahead and from the dark reflection of the TV, I see Strade standing behind me. He was holding the statuette in his hand keeping it suspended in mid-air. I let go, crawl away, and fling myself against the closest wall. Strade stood there looking down at Ren. He then set the bloodied figure down and walked towards me. I closed my eye preparing for a strike, but it never came. Instead Strade grabbed me and pulled me to my feet.

“Ko to ped, champ.” Strade said, “You earned it.”

He pushed me towards the dark stairs and then gave me a hard shove. I turned around and open my mouth to speak, but after seeing Ren being carried off cradled in Strade’s arms thought better of it. Instead, I turned around and ascended the stairs into the darkness above.


End file.
